


Swan Queen:  Magical Mishaps 2013

by Dances_In_Ashes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Swan Queen Week, magical mishaps 2013
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:59:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8734075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dances_In_Ashes/pseuds/Dances_In_Ashes
Summary: I didn't do the whole week, but here's what I did.





	1. Day One:  Magical Intoxication

“Miss Swan, don't-!”

Emma lowered the cup from her lips slowly, her eyes wide and questioning as Regina twisted one hand into a fist and a frustrated, worried look crossed over her. “What?”

She could see a muscle jump in Regina’s jaw as she clenched her teeth, but otherwise the re-instated mayor gave no further indication of distress. “That wasn’t for you,” she replied dryly, crossing the room to snatch the glass from Emma’s grip.

“Oh, sorry…” Emma had more to say, but she trailed off as warmth bled from her stomach, settling deep, and her fingertips practically tingled. Her heart seemed to beat stronger, her breathing a little quicker, and when she turned worried eyes on Regina she felt her expression melt, a sigh slipping from her without consent.

Dark brows coming together, Regina muttered a quiet “damn” and began backing up. Slowly, as if Emma was a bear she was trying not to provoke. She even held her hands up as if that might placate the blonde. “It’s a love potion of sorts,” she explained, hoping to ease whatever worries Emma might have, and perhaps to calm herself down as well. “It was for a friend…. but it’s fairly potent and you’re only supposed to add a single drop to a glass of water. You downed half of it, dear.” 

 

Unfortunately, it seemed as if Emma was already drowning in it’s effects. Her green eyes were mostly black with dilated pupil, and she was staring Regina down as if she was starving and the brunette was a buffet.

“We can reverse it’s effects, but we’ll need to- AH!” Suddenly, she finds herself caught between Emma and the island counter of the kitchen, and though the Savior isn’t touch her, she can feel heat emanating from her like a cloud.

“And why would I want do that?” Her words come out low and rough, and Regina stifles a shiver as the breath of her words caress her ear. Before she can answer, the sheriff has already taken the earlobe between her teeth and sucked. The moan that whooshes from her lungs is terribly embarrassing, but now that Emma’s touching her, the potion is spreading. And she knows what comes next. The lowered inhibitions, the sudden craving to touch, to respond to the ignored feelings.

Emma releases her earlobe to run her tongue along the curve of Regina’s ear, and just like that the mayor’s hands are pulling furiously at her tanktop. The more they touch, skin to skin, the more ferocious the fire burns until it’s scorching them both inside, threatening to spill out like lava. The potion, designed to amplify attraction, finds boundless fuel in their hearts. 

In a frantic meeting of lips, clothes are hastily pushed aside, some pulled off completely, until they are connected where it matters most.

Emma has one hand tucked up Regina’s skirt, the article itself bunched at her hips, with two fingers plunging desperately into her, another hand kneading a bra-clad breast under the woman’s white buttoned shirt. The brunette has slipped fingers down the front of Emma’s unbuttoned jeans, fingers giving the woman something to grind against.

They move, drawing animalistic noises from each other, and finally Emma grabs the back of Regina’s thigh, dragging her leg up to hook around her backside. The mayor makes such a loud keening noise of pleasure that Emma can’t stop herself from growling and pounding into her harder.

Regina fists a hand in the mess of blonde curls, breaking the kiss to press their foreheads together, their breaths mingling between them, becoming one as much as they are. Her black as sin eyes fall to the space between them, alternately watching Emma thrust against the hand she’s tucked between her legs, and watching the other woman’s fingers disappear inside her, glistening with passion.

“Fuck! FUCK!” Emma feels the fingers tangled in her hair clench, pulling on it with an exquisite pain, as Regina lose a bit of coordination. The hand that had previously been lavishing attention on a pair of dusky nipples -she’d finally just pushed the thing up, out of the way- fell to cup her ass, nails digging in and giving the brunette a little added support in more than a few ways.

As the woman’s actions became more deliberate, a bit more rough, Emma felt her climax building. Her fingers were hurting a little, Regina taking them possessively with each aggressive thrust, so she upped her game and slid a thumb over that wonderful little bundle of nerves. The agonized growl that met her ears made her do it again, wanting to ingrain that sound in her brain. 

And, panting, Regina managed to double her speed, but only for a moment. The strangled cry that echoed into the empty mansion was accompanied by fingernails digging into Emma’s scalp and hot liquid pooling in her palm. The blonde’s brain short-circuited a moment as she watched the mayor come completely undone, and then fell over the edge a breath later.


	2. Day Two:  Multiple Madness

“Hey, Regina! Have you seen my keys?!” The blonde pats down her red leather jacket for the twelve time, rather hoping the item in question would manifest itself in a pocket. Of all days to lose the keys…. She checks her jean pockets, too, as she moves into the office, thinking perhaps they’d dropped there last night.

The quiet from upstairs rather frustrates her, and after checking under Regina’s obscenely expensive rolling chair she flops an arm on the dark wooden desk and hauls herself off the floor. 

“Gina!!” she shouts into the quiet, glancing over the neat and tidy stacks of paper that are very obviously not hiding her keys. She huffs, glancing around the room, then stomps rather childishly at her girlfriend’s lack of response.

She’s grumbling her way up the stairs when she hears the first noise… a low, amused chuckle, but one she knows well. That’s the noise Regina makes when she’s extremely happy with herself, and though she used to hear it when the woman was up to no good plotting behind her back, more recently it was pretty much reserved for the bedroom. Except right now it’s a little darker than normal, and entirely too condescending. 

 

“Dammit, if you’re hiding my keys to make me have to work for them, I swear Regina, I’ll-”

She rounds the corner of their bedroom and trips over her feet as they suddenly refuse to work properly. Because there, standing in the middle of the bedroom, are two Reginas. TWO. TWO!

Emma opens her mouth to ask what the actual fuck but all she manages is a little pained whine, because the Regina who’s dressed in skin-tight leather pants and a chest-elevating corset has turned dark-painted eyes on her. Gorgeously full blood-red lips pull up at the corners, a smile that is more an intimidating baring of teeth than anything remotely friendly.

“Well, well, so this is her, hmm? The girl who bested us?” A fine eyebrow raises, and Emma glances at her Regina, still dressed in her power suit and looking a cross between worried and infuriated. The woman meets her eyes, her expression gentling, but is cut-off by this Evil Queen version of herself with a venomous, “The girl we fell in love with.”

Emma’s eyes go a little big, even as Regina’s eyes dart away. In love?

“How disgusting…” she sneers, lips dragging the words out. “It’s bad enough you fell in love… after everything we went through… but to fall in love with someone like her? Someone so… common and simple and… weak.” The last word is ground out, as if rather than speaking the word she’s grinding it to dust beneath one of her tall, fashionable heels.

Emma feels the words sting her, but even before she can feel sorry for herself Regina -the real Regina- is snarling and throwing a ball of blue light at the doppleganger.

The energy crashes over an invisible barrier, the look on the Evil Queen incredulous.

Regina throws a second ball, and a third, until the barrier sparks and flickers out of existence. “Love is not weak!” She growls into the space between them, eyes burning with a protectiveness that makes Emma’s heart skip a beat, and evil Regina is regaining her balance with a surprised look.

“You have grown soft and unworthy, mother would be ashamed-”

The ball of liquid fire that springs forth quite unbidden roars across the room, consuming the personality golem with a loud popping like melting plastic; the smell ashen and leaving only a scorch mark in Regina’s plush carpet. The mayor’s hands are shaking, curled into fists, and tears are streaming down her cheeks.

“Mother would not have been ashamed,” she whispers into the silence, before she turns her chocolate eyes on Emma.

There is a heartbeat in which Emma finds Regina so terribly beautiful she simply stands and stares, but her heart breaks right alongside the brunette’s. So she crosses the space between them in three strides and wraps the woman up in a tight, fierce hug, pressing her lips to tear-stained cheeks and tasting salt. 

“I love you, Regina,” she finally says, pulling back to hold the woman by the shoulders and staring into her eyes. It’s the first time she’s said it -the first time either of them have said it- but if this wasn’t the time to say it, she didn’t know when. The tears shimmering in the woman’s eyes bleed out, but the smile that breaks out on Regina’s face lights the entire room. She’s so radiant, so perfect, that Emma brings their lips together and kisses her as if she was never going to kiss her again.

The answering ‘And I love you, Emma Swan’ against the corner of her mouth causes her to dive in for another kiss, one hand searching desperately for the edge of the bed.

Yea, definitely going to be late for work.


	3. Day Three:  Stuck Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post season two finale.

Okay. So maybe practicing her magic without Regina there to referee hadn’t been the smartest idea. And she probably shouldn’t have been reading out loud from one of Regina’s spellbooks. Still. Emma didn’t think this situation warranted the lecturing she was currently receiving from Regina. The woman probably hadn’t stopped shouting at her in the last ten minutes, and her wrist was starting to seriously hurt from being yanked around.

“Alright, alright,” she huffs, glaring at the older woman’s back while she rummaged through an old-looking chest. Filled with eye of newt and tongue of whiny children, Emma was sure. “I get it, learned my lesson, magic has a price, blah blah blah…”

“Do take this seriously, Miss Swan,” Regina rounds on her so quickly Emma backs up on instinct, only to find herself unable to go anywhere with their hands still bound together. Those dark eyes are flickering with fury, and Emma feels her mouth go dry. “If I can’t conjure up a way to fix this, it’s your hand that’ll be the payment in this.”

Unable to help herself, Emma says, “Well, it could have been worse -what if you’d hugged me? Bet that would have been hard to explain.”

The humour is lost on Regina, however, who looks positively mortified that Emma would even suggest such a scenario.

“Okay, fine. Forget it.” Emma looks pointedly at the box, trying to change the subject. “What are you looking for?”

Glancing at the box, the brunette shakes her head. “Nothing I have. But I know someone who does….” 

Eyes meeting, Emma frowns. “Gold.” 

There’s an answering nod, then a hesitant look draws lines on the woman’s face. “We’re going to have to go to him for the antidote…”

“Which means crossing the main deck,” Emma finishes with a sigh. “Okay, let’s go-” She stands as if making to cross to the ladder that leads above deck, but Regina doesn’t move. “Uh, Regina, we can’t just hide down here all day, I think people will notice.” 

“Of course.” And then the ex-mayor is taking the lead up the stairs, taking them from the sleeping quarters to the main deck. Emma doesn’t say much after that, because she’s mostly staring at Regina’s ass -only because it’s at eye level, she tells herself. 

The wind above deck is much colder, and the sudden wind makes Emma pull her jacket tighter as much as she can with one hand. Regina doesn’t even seem to notice the temperature difference as she stalks across the deck, half-dragging Emma behind her.

Whatever Emma had been thinking before, she realizes she forgot what this looks like… and who they’re with. Hook, of course, is the first to see them. Captain of the ship always knows who’s where and what’s going on, afterall. So when his stoic, handsome face suddenly brightens with a grin, Emma feels herself flush -much to her horror. Because now it really will look worse with her blushing. 

Okay, she hadn’t thought about this part. 

She watches as Hook turns away, and suddenly Charming’s eyes are on her, too. His eyes are impossibly wide and his mouth is hanging open, but he’s jostled out of his reverie by Hook elbowing him and holding out a hand. 

They exchange a bit of money and...

Emma blinks, taking the picture in, and realizes there had been a bet between them. About her and Regina?!

She ducks her head, avoiding any more eye contact, but not before she sees Mary Margaret (Snow? Mom??) pointedly look away. Dammit!

It’s like the Walk of Shame, but before she knows it they’re standing in front of Rumple with Regina shaking their intertwined hands and explaining how Emma decided to dabble without supervision and did what she did best -create a gigantic mess.

Gold offers up a tiny vial with an iridescent blue liquid, chuckling that the payment for this deal has already been paid for. Something about the looks on her parents’ face when they realize what she’s been doing with Regina - hey! 

Regina doesn’t bother dissuading him of the notion, and off they go, Emma stumbling behind Regina as they set off back towards the sleeping quarters with the antidote.


	4. Day Five:  Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during season one

China rattled in the cupboards as another roar of thunder shook the mansion. 

Regina flinched, teeth grinding, as Emma sat on the furthest end of the couch cradling one of the mayor’s famous apple ciders. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere any time soon, afterall.

She observed the brunette for a long moment while the woman’s attention was elsewhere, staring out into the rain with a tense set to her jaw. But it wasn’t the look of someone who was afraid of storms; there was something else, something she was remembering. Bad memories. And Emma knew all about those…. and how to best get rid of them.

Clearing her throat after helping herself to a rather generous part of her cider, she offered up the glass in slight salute. “Thank you. For… letting me stay. You didn’t have to.” Initiate conversation, get the woman’s thoughts out of whatever memory she was stuck in.

“No. I could have made you walk home,” was the dry reply, but she seemed to come back to the present as her eyes lost that far-away look and turned to glare at her.

Progress. Even the small victories….

“I’m really glad you didn’t. I mean… I’d probably end up sick and have to call in tomorrow, and who’d cover for me? That’s just a terrible waste of city funds that could have been avoided.” That was sarcasm, really, but Regina didn’t have to know that. And from the hum she got in response, Regina agreed. Good enough.

They settled into silence again, listening to the steady beat of rain pounding against the roof, the siding, the windows. The grumblings of thunder and the occassional flicker of lightning. Emma eventually helped herself to a second glass of cider when it became apparent Regina had returned to her memories. So she continued watching her, seeing the woman with her walls (kind of) down. 

The mayor was a beautiful woman, Emma had always thought that. But she was also a very sad, lonely woman. She knew she had no right feeling sorry for her -she had made her life hell while living her- but that only made her more curious. What would drive someone to push people away so quickly? Why would she keep everyone at arm’s length?

And, it’s probably the alcohol, but Emma finds herself at Regina’s side with a reassuring hand on her upper arm before she can tell herself what a bad idea that was. 

Brown eyes land on her, roiling with so much emotion it’s hard to pick just one…. anger, confusion, distrust, sadness, surprise. Regina, for once, seems to lack words, having just been caught day-dreaming. So when her lips part, just slightly, probably in an effort to save face, Emma closes what little space is between them -they’d always been terrible at the whole ‘personal space’ thing to begin with- in a gentle brush of lips. Not quite a kiss, but a reassurance. 

And Emma absolutely expects a slap, or at the very least getting yelled at and thrown out into the rain, so when velvet-soft lips move against her own, she freezes briefly.

But Regina -eyes closed with tears wetting her lashes and lines of sorrow furrowing her brow- doesn’t seem to notice.

So Emma drags the kiss on several more seconds, long enough to take the mayor by the hips and pull her flush against her body. The moment they connect, Regina is giving herself over to whatever emotion plauged her thoughts, and all Emma can think about is giving Regina whatever it is she needs to end those bad memories.

A hand tangles in her curls, tugging painfully -probably on accident- and it’s all she can do to keep from moaning into the brunette’s mouth like a horny teenager. Because, dammit if the pain doesn’t shoot straight to her groin in liquid form. 

“Regina,” she whispers between them as they break apart slightly, willing the woman into the present. She cannot do this if the woman isn’t in her right mind. She refuses to take advantage.

“Shut up,” the woman all but snarls and dives in for another kiss, this one a lot less gentle and tentative. It’s only after a battle of lips and tongues that Regina puts a palm to Emma’s sternum and pushes back… but it isn’t revulsion in her dark eyes Emma sees… it’s lust. She feels her knees weaken a little, and as soon as her butt hits the couch cushions Regina is climbing on top of her, nipping at her throat and driving her fingers into blonde hair. 

Emma’s hands go to Regina’s hips almost immediately upon being straddled, and the rolling grind of the woman’s hips against her lap causes a long moan to escape her. 

“God, just…. just fuck me.”

It’s like hitting a brick wall. Going two-hundred miles an hour. With no seat belt. And Emma feels her world crash down around her in a million pieces. 

Nails digging into hips, she exerts control over the woman’s movements, forcing her into slow but languid thrusts, her nose against the woman’s collarbones. She can smell the woman’s unique scent -that smell that drives her mad and is entirely Regina. Apples and cinnamon and a light chocolate, all culminating in the ferocious and fragile mayor of Storybrooke.

They move frantically, as if worried that if they paused long enough to think about what they were going they would stop. Emma pushes the blazer out of the way and unbuttons the dress shirt, shoving the nice but rather modest white bra up, and takes in the sight of two gloriously heaving breasts with beautifully-tipped attentive buds begging for attention. She’s undoing a belt and fumbling with a zipper at the same time she takes the first nipple into her mouth, sucking it in and massaging it with her tongue. 

She isn’t gentle, but rather rough -Regina seems to respond well- and as soon as her fingers can slip past the dress slacks and in to slick, wet heat, she’s forcing three fingers in to the knuckle.

The gasp of pleasure that bursts from Regina is delightful beyond anything Emma could have ever imagined. She pounds into the mayor, fingers making obscenely loud noises even over the thunder, but the rocking of a body against her own coupled with her lips tasting the woman’s throat are the only things that take precident in her mind.

It doesn’t take long… Regina rides her fingers desperately hard, driving Emma as deep as she can manage, with Emma’s lips and tongue working perfect nipples into peaks and hands running over ribs and forearms and stomach, neck, hair, face. A thumbpad runs over the scar on her lip, a painful reminder of disobediance, but then Emma is kissing the mark like it’s perfection personified, and she shivers. 

“FUCK! Harder….. harder…” 

Emma complies, thrusting her fingers into the woman with such force she’s really rather worried about hurting her. But Regina only grinds harder into her hand, the hands fisted in errant blonde curls seizing, and the moment Emma’s teeth begin marking a favored spot between the brunette’s breasts the woman is screaming, crashing through a wall of ecstasy.

Emma waits patiently as the brunette rides out her climax, digging her fingers in to sensitive walls, teeth dragging languidly across ribs and chest. She makes a purposeful mark against one shoulder, a reminder for later when the woman above her is sure to question the event, and sighs contentidly as Regina’s thrusting hips slow, if still convulse and spasm.

“God, Regina, you’re so fucking gorgeous….” The sheriff removes her fingers from their velvet sheath, drawing a long, sticky line, and plunges them into her own mouth, sucking off all traces of Regina’s climax. 

The mayor, in answer, whimpers slighly, but begins to re-button her shirt even as her core demands more.

“You’re safe here,” Emma explains to a doe-eyed mayor, fragile and strong and reckless and deliberate, trying to reclaim her sense of priority. “You’re safe.”

The thunder rumbles around them, shaking the trinkets of the house, but Regina pays it no heed.


End file.
